


Guarded

by Kalinke



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 02:31:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6355351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalinke/pseuds/Kalinke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melissa is watching Derek who is watching Stiles who is watching the coffee maker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guarded

**Author's Note:**

> This was written aeons ago. Back when season two was airing...

Stiles has pulled his chair toward the coffee maker, sits in front of it and watches the coffee collect at the bottom of the filter before it drip-drip-drips down steadily into the black pool. It’s almost ready.

Derek’s leaning against the counter watching Stiles.

And that’s when Melissa comes in and – and brings with her the faintest smell of blood.

And Derek is back in a Motel room in Iowa, huddled under a blanket, eighteen and so unbearably alone in his guilt and grief and self-loathing, so utterly helpless and hopeless.

And Laura comes back in from the bathroom, smelling faintly of blood, so unusually quiet and calm, somehow – frustratingly – managing to suppress her aggression and he wishes she didn’t. But she does. And she lies down next to him, remaining above the covers but pressing her face against his back. “We’re gonna be okay, Roro,” she murmurs. “You’re gonna be okay.” He doesn’t believe her, wishes she would shout at him, push him, leave him, because that’s what’s left. That’s what he deserves. The only thing he deserves. If even that.

Melissa bumps against his arm gently, wry smile on her face, “Enjoying the show?”

Derek snorts and Stiles is too busy focusing on the coffee to pay any attention to them.

“You okay?” Melissa asks. “You seem to be a bit… tense.”

And Derek shrugs. Thinks of blood, Laura’s death, Boyd and Erica…

“It’s that kind of day, huh” Melissa says, her tone’s between question and statement.

Derek nods, eyes on Stiles.

“Just, I think, you’re doing okay,” she adds quietly, convinced. 

And Derek nods, tries to meet her eyes and – 

“Oh, come here,” she says and wraps him up in her arms. And it’s only seconds later when a second set of arms wrap around him from behind, tighter than Melissa’s, and Stiles holds Derek tight against his chest, his face pressing against the back of Derek’s neck.

It’s so much better then. He almost feels settled again and Melissa lets go, smiles at him reassuringly before getting a cup of coffee.

Stiles doesn’t. For all that he’s been jealously guarding the coffee maker for the last five minutes, he now seems perfectly contend to just hold Derek. And Derek stops floating in his memories, is again tethered to the Stilinsky kitchen and to Stiles in a rumpled shirt and boxers.

“Morning,” Stiles finally murmurs against his ear. “Coffee?” he asks, before pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw.

So Derek turns in Stiles’s arms, looks at Stiles’s bleary face and presses the softest of kisses against his nose. “Morning,” he rasps.


End file.
